The Heir of Voldemort
by PhantomofDeath99
Summary: The night Harry became the boy who lived, a child was left fatherless. Her wails were calmed by her mother Suzan, who was ignorant of her witch heritage. Only the baby knew what had occurred. Suzan didn't know who her husband was. What he'd done. She didn't know Thomas Vandom was really Tom Riddle. Or that she was just a mere caretaker for his heir. For Will, Voldemort's daughter.
1. Chapter 1

**I warn you now, number one) this is my first crossover, number two) I've seen all the movies but haven't read all the books, so please forgive me if it's not as detailed as I or you would like. But Wikipedia helps with details so...on with the story.**

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Prologue

The door to a child's bedroom crashed open, blow to pieces by a powerful burst of energy as a hooded creature in a black cloak entered. A woman, with dark brown hair and gentle serene blue eyes, stood turned away from the creature, clutching a child to her chest in defence. The little infant wailed, crying as it detected the darkness of the creature. The creature in question lifted a robed hand, the pale fingers clutching a slender piece of wood. The woman quickly pleaded with him, begging him to spare the life of her child, but got no such mercy.

A green flash of light left the wood, revealing it as a wand, and instantly, the woman's pleas were silenced. Her body fell cold to the ground, dead as her child came crashing down with her. He stared at the creature with fear filled eyes that shed the saltiest of tears. The creature stared at him, wondering exactly what was the purpose in sparing him and raised the wand again. A green light flashed from it as a blood curdling scream left the creature, revealing a man. Shadows quickly engulfed him as he dissipated and the child whimpered. His blue eyes latched onto the sight of his mother who lay lifeless beside him, looking like she was sleeping. The only sign that a man had been in the room, that he had done anything, was the destruction…and the scar. A lightning bolt scar that lay on his forehead, fresh and red. Something that would haunt him forever. Him; Harry Potter. Him; the boy who lived.

In a small, wore down room, a little girl lay resting, snoozing when her eyes suddenly flashed open revealing the most startling of cinnamon. Lightning flashed outside as rain pummelled those still outside. Thunder rolled across the sky, causing dogs to bark and people to shriek as they made a mad dash indoors. The infant girl however, merely blinked, watching the window from her crib. She was almost two years old, but she was much more intelligent than most. She was aware of everything around her. Alert, would be a better word to describe her. She was like her father in that way. More lightning crashed into the sky, setting it alight, but it wasn't the only thing. Another light, bright and green shone out in the sky from several streets over before a horrifying screech followed it. Tears sprung to the child's eyes as her tiny ears recognised the voice and she started wailing and sobbing for all she was worth.

Her mother burst into the room, black hair ruffled and blue eyes wild as she looked at her daughter. She instantly picked up the baby, confused as to why she cried, but relying on her motherly instincts anyway. She rocked her gently, hushing her as she went when her daughter muttered out her first word. An earth shattering word filled with emotions a two year old should never feel. "Dada."

Her mother, Suzan, didn't understand what her daughter was referring to, only that she'd said her first word. Suzan didn't know who she was or who her husband was. She didn't know whose daughter she held and comforted. She didn't know her husband had just murdered two parents her own age and tried to claim the life of a boy the same age as her daughter. She didn't know that her husband had just died and her daughter had just lost her father. She didn't know that her husband, Thomas Vandom, was really Tom Riddle.

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**Tell me what you think. This is just a test run. I wanna know if you like it or whatever...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to the people who favourited, followed, read or reviewed my story. I'm really glad you did and I love the fact that you liked it...to be honest I was afraid peopl****e wouldn't. Also, thanks to nightmaster000 for pointing out the spelling mistake. I know Suzan is technically spelt as 'Susan' but my great aunt spells it this way and it rubbed off. Thanks for the review. So...on with the story...**

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Evening sun peeked through the clouds lazily as Wilhelmina Vandom, more commonly known as Will, crashed on to her bed in a haze, deciding to ignore her Guardian duties for once. It was a Saturday, and quite frankly one of the worst ones to date. She couldn't stand today any longer and just wished she was somewhere else. Her boyfriend _dumped her_ after she found out _he_ cheated on _her_, her mother abandoned her at home after grounding her so she could go on a date with her history teacher and one of her best friends, one of the few people she trusted more than anything else in the world, broke her down even though Will didn't do anything. She didn't know why but it happened and she just...she didn't want to go and be a Guardian today. She didn't want to be their leader right now, and she didn't fully understand why. Another thing she wanted to know why; was why today hated her! It was unbelievable and she despised it. _"Hey doll face,"_ her alarm clock croaked out, _"Don't be so down. Everything gets better eventually."_ The clock's optimism only seemed to put a further damper on her mood as she hissed at it, "Can it Ernie. You're a _clock_! Act like one." The clock immediately hushed up, but Will stared at herself in shock. She didn't know what was wrong with her. She normally wasn't like that. She was sweet and caring and good and—_a complete abomination to her father._ Wait what?

_'You heard me, you're a complete abomination to your father,'_ a voice snarled. But...what the hell was going on? 'Who the fudge are you?' she replied, her confusion being outweighed by the anger at the insult. The voice was feminine, or so she suspected. It was hard to discern. _'I am the one reminder of greatness in you. The __**real**__ you. You are not good, or innocent or caring or sweet. You are dark and sinister and malicious and malevolent and_—' 'Yeah, well that's great...but I'm not like that.' She paused, waiting a moment until she was sure the voice was quiet. She was going insane, hearing voices in her head talking about her father. What father? She didn't have one, he was gone, finished, deader than a corpse. He didn't exist anymore. And she didn't care. She had never met him, she had never spent a second of her life with him, and she didn't want to. She was raised by her mother and she was okay with that. She hadn't screwed up too much, sure, she completely annoyed the shit out of Will sometimes, but the woman was a good parent. _'A good __**caretaker**__. She is no parent of yours. Your only parent is your father.'_ And the insanity has returned. Wonderful. Really, _really_, wonderful. 'Oh God! Go away!' she moaned, grabbing a pillow and muffling her irritated groan with it. She was alone in her house, at eight o'clock and going insane. Maybe all those telepathic conversations with Taranee were finally getting to her.

_'No, it's not your friend's conversations. Insanity is an inherited thing in your family.'_ Will scoffed, removing the pillow from her face as she sat up. She glanced at her phone on her bedside table and willed it to ring. Somebody had to call. Just someone to talk to. Get rid of the insanity. She just needed it to _ring_...

Nothing. "Urgh! Nobody can do what I fudging ask!" _'You could always make them.' _Make them. Yeah, because trying to force Cornelia Hale to do something goes so brilliantly. 'I can't make them,' she snapped, annoyed by this voice. 'They're my friends. What they do is their choice.' _'Not always. What they do could be **your** choice.'_ A new sensation nudged at her mind and Will felt like something snapped within her. A deep rush of green blinded her eyes and she quickly threw up her arms to defend them from the harsh light, but nothing happened. The light continued, as dark and sinister as the voice implied she was. And then it was just..._gone_. "What was that?" She muttered, deflated as she fell back onto her bed, her eyes still burning but cleared. A wave of sickness rolled in after her and Will found herself sprinting for the toilet. What a great day indeed.

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Irma frowned at the ansemble before her. I.T.C.H was here, but there favourite 'W' wasn't. It made her wonder if she was sick or something but then again, Will was normally late to all of their meetings. Cornelia paced back and forth in frustration as Hay Lin blew a bottle cap across the table to Irma who flicked it back and Taranee was, as usual, reading a book. But even in her casual gesture, Irma knew her bookworm friend was just as frustrated as the blonde. "Where is she?" Cornelia boomed, slamming her fists on the table. Hay Lin blinked and Taranee glanced at her from the book, her eyes asking the same question. Where was Will? "You know Cornelia, she might not be coming." Hay Lin blew the bottle cap to Irma who paused it in place with her finger, cocking an eyebrow as she looked at the air Guardian. Why wouldn't Will come? She always came to meetings, no matter what. She was their leader. She _had_ to be there. "What makes you say that Hay-Hay?" "Cornelia told her not to bother coming because she was a useless leader. She said and I quote, 'I wonder what possessed the Oracle when he picked you as the Keeper? He must've pitied you because you have nothing to live for. I mean, look at it this way, your dad left you to get away from you. We don't need you anymore. Next person to go will be your mom.' It was really bitchy and you could pratically see the tears coming, but you know Will," she left it at that and Cornelia felt horrible guilt rush through her as the others glared at her. Because they did know Will. They knew Will better than anyone and they knew what hurt her. They knew that she loved them as family. That even if she didn't say it, she missed not having a dad. That even when she was hurt she wouldn't show it. And they knew that no matter what happened, no matter what they did to her, she would always come to help them. So what changed?

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Will sat on the floor of her bathroom, her arms wrapped around her legs that were pulled in to her chest. Her head throbbed, her eyes hurt, her stomach was empty and yet she was still puking. The voice was still whispering to her, telling her all the things the Guardians wanted from her and how she could stop them. She could just make them go away. But she didn't know _how_. And it wasn't telling her. It occurred to her, that the more the voice spoke, the more enchanting it became, the more alluring and the more...believable. And it had been going on for more than an hour already. _'You can take away the pain you know. You can do anything you want. As long as **you** want it.'_ Her head thudded again as the light came back into view, blinding her again. What was it? _'It's the last thing you remember. The last thing your father did.'_ "What father! I don't have one!" She screeched. Tears pricked at her eyes and she buried her head into her knees. She didn't have one...because he left...because he decided it was okay for her to grow up without him and to just...die. _'He didn't want to...and he's come for you, Will. He'll be here soon.'_ "Who?" She sobbed. Footsteps padded against the carpet and on to the tiled floors of her bathroom as a cold hand rested on her shoulder. A woman, with stark white hair and long black streaks gently rubbed soothing circles into her back as she hushed her. "Soon, my dear. Soon your daddy will be home. Soon you will be too."

The woman continued to hold her as Will remained oblivious, thinking she was imagining it. Her sobs became hiccups and sniffles and soon...that became sleep. A man with the same bright coloured hair, like bleached blonde, entered from the shadows as the dark of the night set in outside. "Is she asleep?" He enquired, tilting his head as he pulled a wand from his cane. "Yes, Lucius, she is." The woman answered, watching as the girl's head leaned heavily on her knees as she slumped forward, clearly unconscious. The man, Lucius, raised her from the ground with a flick of his wand, levitating her out of the bathroom and on to the bed. "And what of her caretaker?" He asked. "The dark Lord is ready to take what is his?" "Yes my dear, Narcissa. All that is left, is the caretaker." He replied, tucking Will under the covers and looking at her, studying her for a moment. "She doesn't resemble him much." "She has his corruption." Lucius nodded, comforted by the fact as he bowed to the sleeping girl. "She will make a fine heir then." "She will, as soon as her caretaker is gone." "And is she?" "She soon shall be home. With those that have passed that is." Lucius grinned viciously, leading his wife by her arm out of the room and into the main area of the apartment. "Then let us see to it that she makes it to the other side safely."

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**End of Chapter 1. What did you think? I wikipedia-ed Lucius' wife and the spelling and stuff, so it should be okay. Let me know if I screwed up anywhere and I'll fix it. Thank you people!**


	3. Chapter 3

Will's eyes opened with the same exhaustion that made her close them. She was in her bed, she noticed, and frozen, but that was unimportant right now. The point was…how did she get to her bed? The last thing she remembered was...lights, big bright flashes of light...and she was puking, vomiting her guts into the toilet...in the bathroom...and there was...there was a voice. _'Still is a voice dear.'_ Correction, there still _was_ a voice. But... that still didn't tell her how she got to bed. Maybe...she sleep walked? Or her mother put her here...Mother...Her mom! Will instantly jumped to her feet, ignoring the dizziness that set in and stormed into the living area, not giving two shits about her clothes and getting changed. She could do that later. "Mom! You home?" The living room and kitchen were both empty so Will speed walked into her mom's room. Getting ready to have a pillow thrown at her, Will opened the creaking door loudly, letting strong light from the living room inside. She braced herself, waiting for her mom to give out to her for waking her up and—

Nothing. No pillows were thrown, there was no groan of protest, no yelling...just...nothing. Studying the room quickly, Will figured out, her mother hadn't actually gone to bed. She probably hadn't even come home, choosing to stay at Dean's, Will's history teacher's house, instead of coming home to her miserable child like any good mother would. 'No...she's good she just needs her own space too—' _'Are you sure that's what you meant, Will? You sound so sure that she's not a good caretaker.' _'Mother, she's my **mother**. Not my caretaker.' _'Well, she __**takes care**__ of you. Those are the main characteristics of a __**caretaker**__, not a mother.' _'Well then, I suppose all mothers are caretakers then.' The voice went silent as Will groaned, flopping down on the couch. "Hey Bert, turn on to channel 9 would ya?" She asked as the old TV quickly turned itself on and did as it was told with a, _"Sure thing, boss."_

Will yawned sleepily, glancing at her watch to find that it was 3 pm and she'd slept through most of the kids shows on TV that were actually worth watching. It seemed that the most she'd done since yesterday was cry, sleep and manage to move herself to the couch. Lazily, she wiped the sleep from her eyes and flicked through the TV channels, waiting for something interesting when she saw the news was on. Mind you, watching the news would be the last thing for Will to even consider doing...but something drew her in. Made her want to watch it. The screen fuzzed a bit before clearing as she willed the volume to raise. _"And in today's news, a woman's body was found near a ditch by the junkyard. The identity of the woman has not yet been confirmed but it is said that it is a woman in her late 30's to early 40's and that she __**is**__ a resident of Heatherfield. Police are scouring the area for any clues as to who might've caused the woman's death, but so far, nothing has been found. Coroners have strong leads in relation to the woman's identity and are waiting to communicate with her last remaining family to explain the tragedy. It is believed she was a single mother and her last family is a daughter aged 14. That's all for now. Back to you John."_

Will stiffened in her seat, peering over at her mother's bedroom door out of her peripheral vision as she tried to digest the information. It couldn't be her mother, could it? There were close to 250 girls in her school, 75 of them were aged 14 and the other 175 were below and over 14. That meant, 74 chances that it wasn't her...but then again...they said she was a _single_ parent. That knocked it down to 12 people including her. 11 chances that it wasn't her mother. _'Amazing isn't it, dear. The minute you panic, you're finally good at maths.'_ Will eyes widened almost comically as she stuttered a response. 'That's not maths it's just...common knowledge...it's a fact.' _'It's a statistic. A statistic that you came up with on your own because she's __**not here!**__ You're good at it when she's not pressuring you...belittling you.'_ Will shook her head strongly. The voice was right. She was doing maths. But the only reason she was good at it, was because it was pressing and important, not because her mother wasn't there to pressure her and make her screw up. _'So you admit she does pressure you and make you screw up, you admit you're better off without her.'_ She growled at the voice, shaking her head again as if to shake the voice from it. But its clutch on her mind was too strong. And she couldn't do it. The voice hushed up, yet she could still feel it there, clinging to her maze of a mind. But it wasn't important. Right now, the situation was more important than the chance of evil taking over her head. (Not that it could, she was just too scatter brained for that.) There were 11 chances that she wasn't an orphan. 1 chance that she might be. 1 chance that Cornelia was right. That she'd finally lost her mother.

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"Hi Mr Collins, I was wondering if...if my mom's still there?" After sitting in shock for several moments, Will had leapt at the phone, tackling it to the ground as she struggled to dial the number of her history teacher. Believe her when she says; it was hard for her not to puke again. There was a scuffle on the other end of the phone before a breathy, "no" was heard. What the hell...? "Are you sure Mr Collins?" "I think I'd know who was in my house Will. But I haven't seen your mother since yesterday." Yesterday? As in, Saturday from hell, yesterday? "What do you mean you—" "I mean exactly that Will. Your mother left here last night around midnight and she went home. I haven't seen or heard from her since...Why do you ask?" "It's...erm..it's—it's nothing, Mr Collins. Thanks for your help." She mumbled, hanging up and resting the phone back in its cradle as she sighed, rubbing her face with her hands. There were still 11 chances that it wasn't her mom. There was still hope. However small and midget sized, tiny and completely non-existent it may be. The phone rang again, right in her ear she might add, and she hurried to answer, thinking it was her mother. Suzan did have a habit of not calling just like Will did, even if Will got in trouble for it and her mother easily danced around it. "Hi Mom—Sorry, my mistake. Erm...may I ask, who are you?" "My apologies Ms Vandom, but this is of the upmost emergency. We need you to come down to the police station immediately." 'So, they're the police.'

The police. The whole thing felt unreal, like she was just observing someone else do all the talking. Like watching someone else conclude that their mother was dead and that they'd be coming down to a police station to identify her corpse. Like she was just, floating, non-existent as the girl answered the police in a calm and detached voice, telling them she'd be there as soon as she could. She felt physically cold, like her heart was slowing down and freezing over. But she didn't know why. This wasn't her going to identify her mother's body, it was someone else. Or at least it felt like it.

Will stood stock still as she watched the Coroner unveil the body from behind the glass. Her eyes were as cold as she was, looking at everyone harshly as if they were to blame for her mother's death. But, then again, she supposed they were. If everyone in this building, in the police station, had managed to capture all the criminals in Heatherfield, or at least the murderers, then her mother wouldn't be dead. Her mother would be alive and giving out to her about sleeping away the day. But her mother _was_ dead. And it was their fault.

Dark hair spilled on to the slab as tan skin and closed eyes came into view. Large gashes and bruises covered the woman's face so much it was hard to see who it was, but Will knew. It was her mother. Her **dead** mother. "Is that your mother, Miss Vandom?" She nodded shakily, feeling her eyes warm as they filled with hot, salty tears. The police officer, Officer Skelko if she read his nametag correctly, looked at her again with his beady ice blue eyes. "I'm going to require a verbal response, Miss Vandom. Is that or is it not, your mother?" She glared at him, noticing he was quite blurry through all of her tears, but she didn't care. "Of course that's my fudging mother! If it wasn't then I wouldn't nod would I?" The officer looked at her, clearly outraged by her outburst but she shoved passed him, running for the emergency exit. Officer Skelko called after her, his feet hammering on the floor as she bust through the door, running into the car park. _'Come on Wil, you can take him. Go back!'_ "And get myself arrested, no thank you." She muttered, dodging into an alley way and pressing her back against the wall. It looked familiar in a number of ways, but then again, most alleys looked the same. But then she heard it. The rumbling. A quick glance at the dumpster where trash was thrown left and right confirmed her suspicion. She was two blocks away from the Silver Dragon and a twenty minutes' walk from her house. 'I wonder how long it takes to run...' _'Let's find out, shall we Vandom?'_

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Will trudged up the stairs, her energy depleting more and more with every step. She was tired, so very very tired. She was tired of running, of being sad, of being broken, of losing people. She was tired of fighting, of people lying to her and manipulating her. She was tired of being weak. She was tired of everything. Slipping her key out of her pocket she sighed, lifting it to open the door when she slipped. She hastily snatched onto the door handle, causing it to jerk down as she caught herself and surprisingly, the door popped open. But...she had locked it when she left. "Hey Will!" A voice called. A voice so obviously boy and so obviously friendly that she knew instantaneously that it was Caleb. Boy and Friend, that was him alright. She scowled slightly, knowing he had broken into her house while she was gone as she stepped inside, regarding him coldly as he rooted through her kitchen cabinets. "I'm sorry for barging in, but your house was closest and I needed some—bandages...Will, are you okay?" She cocked her head to the side as he pointed to her face, stepping closer. "You're...you're _crying_. What happened? What's wrong?" A perplexed expression crossed her face. She wasn't crying. Was she? Will quickly brushed her hands across her face only to pull them back wet. "Oh," she whispered lamely. 'Oh? That's all you can come up with? Go me!'. "Look, Caleb. I just want to be alone right now. You can keep the bandages just...go." "But—" "Please Caleb! Just go." He nodded, backing down easily much to her shock. He grabbed his brown leather jacket, the one the girls had bought him for Christmas, and walked towards the front door, giving her a quick look of concern before slamming it closed behind him, leaving her alone in the silence. In _her_ silence. In her new and improved, living emptiness. Her living darkness.

She'd barely spent two minutes on the couch, where it all started, when the voice returned, more comforting now. _'It's okay to be upset Will.' _it cooed. _'It's okay to be __**angry**__. She left __**you**_**.** _It's her fault.'_ Will wanted to deny it. She wanted to tell it that her mother wasn't to blame for her being alone, that death couldn't be helped. But it could. She could've stayed home. Or at Dean's. At least then she would've been safe. But she risked her safety to come home at midnight, in a dark town with a new gang lurking around every alley. If she'd given a damn about Will, she would've thought of the consequences of her actions. She would've at the very least, told her she loved her before she left. But her mother just left. She said nothing only the usual, "Don't leave the house or you'll be grounded for more than a week" and left. It was _her_ fault Will was alone. And she was angry about it.

Will quickly surveyed the room. There were pictures of them on most of the tables and walls. There was a reminder of her on every square inch of this apartment except in Will's room. In Will's solitude. Glaring she stood up, stalking over to the nearest picture that held a smiling eight year old red head and her grinning mother. A mother who didn't care. Who only posed for the photo. A worthless..._Caretaker!_

Smash! The picture flew into the opposite wall, crashing into several others of the same nature that cluttered to the ground in a pile of broken frames and glass. It was her fault. The TV was next. It was where she'd decided to let Will know she'd died. "QUINTESSENCE!" Lightning erupted from her fingers, hurtling itself into the TV screen and bursting through it, destroying it in a mass of smoke and electricity. The phone. The thing she'd failed to contact Will on. _Bang!_ It exploded in a burst of the same Guardian energy. Everything in this room. It was all a reminder of that...that _woman_. She wanted to erase it. To get rid of it all. To destroy it like she'd so recklessly destroyed her life. She wanted to burn it.

Light flashed from her fingers, bright and roaring as flames danced from the light across the carpet. The inferno licked at any reminder, any memory that was in the room, scorching it to ash. Will's eyes watched it curiously, like she was entranced as she watched the flames consume room. Nothing, except her, was spared. The fire roared into her mother's room, burning from floor to ceiling, threatening to collapse the walls. But it never approached her or her safe haven. They both remained untouched. Will finally tuned in, and without any effort at all, commanded the fire to stop. To be extinguished by anything. By water.

Immediately, the flames disappeared as two shadow hidden people, the same two from the previous night; Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy gaped. "Did she just...?" "I believe she did." "But how could she cast two spells such as Incendio and Aguamenti, without a wand. The only one capable of such is the dark Lord himself and Dumbledore." "Well, she is his daughter is she not, Narcissa?" "She is." She concluded, watching as the girl looked around the room with an unknowing and proud grin on her face. Even if she didn't know, even if she rarely listened to the whispers Narcissa left in her mind, she was powerful and insane. Both from her father, even though her caretaker's line of witches, all pure bloods, were powerful too. "We should approach now, while she is alone and newly experienced to her magic—" Narcissa placed an arm out, restraining her husband from stepping out of the shadows as the girl turned to the door, just before it knocked. The disfigured door handle was opened with a shriek of pain as four girls shuffled in, one; a short haired brunette clutching her hand. The other Guardians.

"Will we're so so—What happened in here? Are you okay?" Taranee demanded as she rushed forward only to come to a screeching halt by the icy glare Will threw at her. "I'm fine. Nice of you to care now." "We're so sorry about your mom. I never meant to hurt you...well I did...but not in that way. I was angry and I was having a really bad day. You were just there in the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm sorry." Cornelia explained as Will snorted slightly. A grin came to her face as she thought the red head found it funny but immediately dissipated as soon as she saw her malicious expression. "You. Had. A. Bad day? Oh how pitiful. Did you ever think, you self-absorbed ditz, that maybe I was having a bad day too? I mean, I got grounded, Matt cheated on me and then _dumped_ me and then you go and make shit out of me by talking about what a suckish leader I am and then bringing up the fact that my dad is dead! Now, forgive me for making you exert yourself by thinking of another person, but how about you consider how I was feeling after you pulled that crap? Then you show up, now of all times, when as you so kindly pointed out, my mother is gone!" Red hot anger boiled in her veins as she glared at them, Cornelia taking a step back as the voice whispered to her again. _'Is it just me Will? Or does it seem like too much of a coincidence that they show up now. You hadn't even called them to tell them what happened and the police at the station said no press release until tomorrow...' _"How did you even know my mother was dead? There's no press release until tomorrow and I didn't call you. You couldn't have known unless..." Irma stared at her, wondering where her line of thought was going when Taranee jumped in. "No Will! We didn't have anything to do with—" "That's it isn't it!" It didn't even seem like she heard them as she spoke. "You did this didn't you? You had something to do with it at least, even if you didn't do it yourself." "Do what Will?" Hay Lin asked. The red head turned on her with angry eyes that caused her to cower back a step. "You killed her didn't you? You killed my caretaker." "Caretaker? What— Will!" "Stay away from me!" She yelled, running out the door with fresh betrayal in her eyes. She needed to get away. Just get away from everything and find someone who cared, who loved her. Who wouldn't betray her. And the Malfoy's knew just where that someone was.

* * *

"This is it. Prepare yourselves." Bellatrix Lestrange instructed, brushing her psychotic frizzy hair out of her face as she waved away the Death-Eaters. The heir was coming. She could sense it. And no doubt, along with the heir, would come her watchers, the Malfoy's, her sister and husband. As if on cue, a red headed girl dashed into the park, making a beeline for the willow tree near the pond. She quickly slipped in under the branches and sat down, pulling her knees up to her chest. Bellatrix grinned as she saw the fresh tears of betrayal and anger run down her face. This was going to be too easy.

"Wilhelmina Vandom," Lucius addressed, standing in front of her as the girl looked up, not appearing shocked in any way. He gave her a polite smile as she nodded her head, her eyes rimmed with red. "Yes?" "My name is Lucius Malfoy. And if I am correct, you are alone, are you not?" She nodded again, her eyebrow hitching up in curiosity. "Why do you ask, Mr Malfoy? What am I to concern you?" "The daughter of a friend of mine." He answered. Hopefully he wouldn't be punished for addressing the dark Lord as his equal. It was just a means of persuasion, but it could easily be seen as otherwise. She regarded him with more importance the minute those words were uttered from his lips. But she didn't question him. There was an air of warmth around him just as there was coldness within him. She could see it. But she didn't care. He knew something related to her, and it intrigued her. "And why does that bring you to approach me?" "Because we can help you. We can take you away, to a place where you may have whatever you wish. A place where no one will challenge you, betray you. A place where everyone will love and care for you. A place solely yours, my dear." Narcissa answered, gaining Will's attention as she studied her. The voice was familiar...but she couldn't place it. "Where would that be?" "With the man you feared dead. With the very man who died and was taken from you." "No man was taken from me—" "Your father was. Wasn't he, Will?" Bellatrix interrupted as a circle of Death-Eaters encircled her. Will nodded her head, slowly fitting the pieces together. "But he's dead—" "Not anymore, Will. He came back for ya. He cares. He wants us to take you to him." She continued as Lucius offered her a hand. "Come meet him, Miss Vandom. At least then, you'll have gotten the chance." He smiled at her again, politely and friendly, making her feel comforted, like someone really did care about her wellbeing. Without a drop more of hesitance, she latched onto his hand, feeling herself be whisked away. Hopefully to a better place. One where her father was alive. One where she was loved.


	4. Chapter 4

**Just to be clear, this will take place around the end of Fourth year, heading into Fifth Year for Harry and the others. Will shall be going to Hogwarts near Sixth Year, but I want to give some time to evolve her character, her evilness, and give her some Daddy-Daughter bonding time. So...here it is...**

* * *

Will stumbled a moment before steadying herself as the spinning stopped. Looking around, she noticed that she was in a large, mansion like house, with white everything in it. The walls were white, the floor was white, the ceiling was white, the columns supporting the ceiling were white, everything. She was stunned and her eyes hurt a tad, but she ignored it. Will got the distinct feeling that showing emotions of weakness around these guys would be beyond pitiful and stupid. _'You're right Will, Death-Eaters do not tolerate emotions.' _A voice hummed in her ear, but it was different then the one before. It was softer, sweeter and younger. It sounded like a girl around her age. But still, Will heeded her advice, keeping her face blank.

Bellatrix looked her over, noticing her blank expression and bobbed her head to herself. The heir had good emotional control, that was something at least. And well...she wasn't _ugly_, or stupid...she was just lost. Like most of the Death-Eaters were before they became Death-Eaters. But, even if she appeared calm and collected, like she was ready, they still needed to gauge her reaction to...the Test.

"Well, my dear, how do you like our home?" Narcissa enquired. She was always the more motherly one of all the Death-Eaters. Maybe because she _was_ in fact a mother, or maybe because she was the only one who still cared and had emotion. But either way, the Malfoy woman was excited to have the heir here. She had always wanted a daughter, and Narcissa knew, she would be doing most of the mothering and caring for this girl until she was old enough to do so herself, and even then, she might continue her job caring for her. Will nodded her head, allowing a polite smile to cross her face as she gestured to the room they were in. "It's nice...I really like it, but the white—" She faltered, like she was concerned about offending them. It caused many to frown, even behind their masks before Lucius shooed them away, leaving only himself, his wife and his sister-in-law. "What about the white?" "You're Death-Eaters are you not? Shouldn't your base of operations be more...I don't know...Death themed?" Narcissa gaped at her in her surprise. How had she guessed? Lucius allowed no shock to register on his face, only in his eyes as Bellatrix chuckled. "She's got a protector." Will's brow furrowed as Lucius and the psychopath shared a glance. A protector. Someone to warn her through mental contact only. Someone to act as a conscience, a guide, someone to help her. The only difference being this person, this protector was a real person, one that either knew what they were doing contacting people, or didn't. In this case, it appeared as though the protector was new and Will hadn't heard from her.

"Well...a protector is a mental guide, though I'm not sure how you have one. The dark Lord himself has never received one, even as a boy." Lucius muttered the last part to himself, clearly confused as Narcissa gestured to the room with her hand. "The room is in fact themed around death Will. Despite common belief, death is white. The ground on which you tred, represents the...how do you say it? Limbo! It represents the limbo that souls spend mere moments in before crossing over. Different people appear to guide them through it, but it's always the same. It's always white." 'Well, count me as one of those people who didn't know that.'

Just as she was about to enquire about her dad, the real reason she was here, a new voice entered. "Who is she?" It was a man, with a coldness even Lucius didn't match. But she supposed he wasn't supposed to. "Severus. This is the Heir." Will looked at them in confusion as Narcissa supressed a face-palm over their obliviousness. Sure, Will wasn't stupid, she knew what _an_ heir was, but she didn't know what _the_ heir was. "The what?" She muttered lamely as Snape released a snigger. "You have not yet told her?" "Her training is of the upmost importance. She will be revealed officially to our world once it is completed and she is ready." 'Training. They're going to train me,' Will thought calmly, 'Can't be too bad, right?' _'The question is,'_ her protector hushed, _'What are they training you in?'_

* * *

Irma was sitting on the scorched couch, trying to think or at least clear her head. Will had barely been gone for twenty minutes, but Irma got the distinct feeling that something else had happened. It was like she could sense that Will had left. Left where exactly? She didn't know. First guess Heatherfield. Second guess...America. "Corny! Sit your ass down!" She snarled. Despite everything, and the constant feelings of self doubt, Irma blamed Cornelia most of all. After everything was said and done, it was technically, all her fault. She just had to be a stereotypical bitch like the three school sluts; Kelsey, Chelsea, and Lyndsay. Cornelia complied, sitting on the only other good seat in the wrecked room and remained silent. "Where do you think she went?" Hay Lin enquired. She phrased it so innocently, like a little kid that just lost her puppy and it was quite hard to see her as the strong and brave Air Guardian. Her double life often made Irma forget how innocent her friend still was. "She went away Hay Lin. Away from the place that caused her pain."

The girl looked at her in confusion, cocking her head to the side. "She left Heatherfield?" Taranee shook her head, feeling the same as Irma. She looked at them all with a firm confidence that she was right as she answered, "Will's pain started in a couple other places around _America_." Cornelia's eyes widened as Hay Lin let out a little, feeble, "oh". "She left the country?" "Yeah. She left the country...and..." Taranee watched as reality came crashing down on her friend, the water she controlled raining down her cheeks as she sobbed into her hands. "She left us, Cornelia," Taranee finished. "She left her greatest pain. She left _us_."

* * *

Will stood to the side with Narcissa as a group of Death-Eaters entered the room. Lucius stepped forward to greet them as Bellatrix and Snape bitched at each other in another corner of the room. They spoke in hushed tones, but occassionally, their voices got loud enough that Will could hear them. It wasn't much and it didn't make sense. It was little things like, "Potter", "pure blood" and "death".

"Well then, it's settled." Lucius turned to her grinning as he gestured for the bickering duo to come over. "What's settled?" Narcissa asked, resting a hand on Will's shoulder to keep her quiet. The red head complied, keeping her mouth shut as her _protector_ started muttering varying degrees of _'Don't trust them', _in multiple different ways. "Wilhelmina's training," Will flinched at the sound of her full name, the way it came out excitedly from his mouth, "shall be trained with the Death Eaters in the countryside. Out near the Burrow and the Cemetry. She'll be trained in not only magic, and her witch conduct, but also in the correct mannerisms and conduct for the Dark Lord." "Wait!" Will called out. 'Yo, protector person. What the fudge is he saying witch for?' _'It's in your blood, girl. The Witch in you is strong. Magic is strong in you.'_ '...And you're no help.' "What do you mean witch conduct?" Snape scoffed, looking her over as he enquired, "You do not know anything then?" Narcissa glared at him stiffly, her lips drawn in a straight line. "Her caretaker was Suzan. Suzan _Vandom_."

Suzan Vandom, the Oblivious. She was well known in the Wizarding world. Her name was self-explanatory. She was oblivious. She didn't know anything about her blood line of witches and wizards, her family magic. She didn't know anything about the Wizarding world or the laws. She knew _nothing_. "Suzan _Vandom_?" Snape said slowly as Will turned to glare at him, thinking he was insulting her recently dead caretaker. "Yeah, what of it, bird nose?" Bellatrix stifled a chuckle. To think, this girl would be Snape's student if all went to plan. And all would go to plan. The letters had already begun to arrive. Letters from the Great Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts.

"She was a witch. Your whole family consists of witches and wizards."

Letters from the Great school of Hogwarts, inviting Will to be a new addition. An American trophy witch.

"My caretaker...but that means..." "You are also a witch, yes. But your father, is the most powerful wizard alive." "My father?"

Letters inviting Voldemort's heir to end them all. All in the warmth of their _beloved_ school. Their safe haven.

"The Dark Lord." "Dark?" "As dark as you or I."

A safe haven that wasn't so safe anymore.


	5. Chapter 5

Will whimpered against the harsh light from the small opened window. She was dangling by her wrists, chained to two poles on either side of her. Her skin was scarred and marked, her eyes encircled by dark bags as her frail body just...hung there. She vaguely remembered what had happened. She didn't remember when, but she remembered who.

_...Flashback..._

_Lucius Malfoy stood before her, a small wand in his hand that reflected the sleek black of the one in hers. He was teaching her defensive magic, trying to prepare her for the brutality of the outside world. His spells were dooming, harsh and deadly and each one crashed heavily against her weakening shield. Her reflective spells needed work, (a __**lot**__ of work) and so she was stuck defending herself with a weak and dying shield. She thought she was doing pretty well considering the fact she had never done this before in her life and he'd merely given her the correct pronounciation and trusted her to defend herself. That was fourty five minutes ago. And she was quite pleased if she did say so herself._

**_BANG!_**

_The earth-shattering sound echoed through the room and the grinning laughter that accompanied it caused Will to stiffen in her place. Irma._

The Guardians had kidnapped her, despite all her efforts to avoid it. They had knocked Lucius unconscious and she had been dragged away, despite many mens' attempts to save her. It was days ago, though. She may not remember exactly when, but she knew it was more than four days ago, nearly a week. It worried her. She was in a good place, where she was loved and helped. She was learning so much about who she really was and then they'd taken her, chained her up and tortured her. Trying to convince her to come back to them. But she couldn't. She _wouldn't_. She wouldn't betray hope that someone would save her. Someone hopefully being her father.

* * *

Lucius grinned viciously as he watched the girl through a viewing mirror. This was by far his best idea yet and he couldn't wait to tell the Dark Lord. "Is it working, my dead?" His wife asked as he nodded. "Our plan to darken her and win her loyalty has worked _perfectly._ She truly believes the Guardians have kidnapped her." He laughed, grinning as Narcissa looked over his shoulder into the mirror curiously. The red haired girl ground her teeth together as the 'Water Guardian' taunted her with a goblet of water, a searing hot cattle brand resting near the door with the 'Fire Guardian'. "She seems determined to resist them." "No. She is determined to refuse them entirely, break down their very beings to nothingness, my dear. She is angry and it only fuels the darkness beginning to settle within her."

There was a loud knocking on the door of the room and a Death Eater, one specifically working as the Dark Lord's messenger, entered. "He wishes to know what has occurred." Lucius nodded, the grin reaching his eyes with malevolence. "Tell the Dark Lord, that she is ready. Tell him she is ready to be saved." "By who?" "By her dearest _daddy_."

* * *

**Sorry it's short, I know I haven't updated in a while...but you know...things come up, shit happens. I've been really ****_really_**** busy so I had a little trouble updating. You want to know what was worse? No? Too bad, I'm telling you. I was sick. On my birthday. I was sick on my ****_birthday!_**** Like, confined to a bed kinda sick. It was horrible! Any way, enough of my pity party. I'll try to update soon.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Sup peeps, just an A/N**

**I know I haven't been posting much and I'm really sorry, I have exams coming up on the 24th through to the next week, so I've been studying and I'm also a really bad multi-tasker story publisher. I don't know how you people do it, but you're really good at it. If you can be patient with me until the 31st I'll be really grateful. **

**31st onwards- free time to Fanfic my ass off. Hopefully, I'll finish The Heir of Voldemort as soon as possible, (within the summer) and be able to move my attention to one of my other ideas which needs to a) be completed or b) be published. I'm sorry, repeatedly. **

**~The Phantom**


	7. Chapter 7

**I have some awesome news...I'M BACK! WHOOO! How's it hanging people? Missed me? I know I missed writing! Jesus it was boring! Anyway, without further adue, here it is!...**

* * *

The air burned her dry throat, tauntingly reminding her of what she craved in this moment. Water. It was within reach. Well...sort of, it was in a wooden cup on the end of a stick that was held in front of her face as snide comments and the usual bitch remark left her ex-friend's mouth in overwhelming waves of irritance. Will wasn't sure whose irritance it was anymore, Irma's at being charged with watching a hostage who'd spat at her half an hour ago, or her own at the never ending babble of trivial nonsense that came from the peasant muggle girl's mouth. _'Peasant? Nice. I don't even have to remind you anymore.'_ Not anymore, and never again. Never again would her upstairs voice need to remind her who was the better person, the higher archy. The ruler. She was a witch, the heir of a powerful wizard and this girl was merely a hired gun of the universe who dared to impersonate an overgrown pixie. "...and I mean come _on!_ I get left to look after..._you!_ Bitchzilla is at a mall, Azula is heating up the cattle iron, and Aang is off roaming the fields of Meridian in the hopes of finding an ostrich to play with!"

Irma halted in her rant at the dry snickering that interrupted her. It was quiet and barely there but she heard it. It took her a moment to think before she realized. It was Will. "What are you laughing at Carrot Top?" "You! You're a complete and utter idiot with the brain capacity of a seven year old. The fact that you watch the Legend of Aang and are using it to refer to your fellow overgrown pixies is just embarrassing. Name another sixteen year old who still watches it! Go on, sea monkey, do it. Oh wait, that's right, you're the only one. You're also the only Bitchzilla on the fucking planet so why don't you shove that where the sun don't shine and shut your oversized pie-hole! You're yapping is giving me a damn headache!" The Water Guardian stared at the red-head for several minutes, blinking several times as if to understand that that did really happen. That Wilhelmina Vandom had really spoken back, really cursed and completely stumped her. Wilhelmina Vandom, her _hostage_. "Why you-" She didn't get the chance to finish as a shimmering dark cloud burst through the overhead window, breaking into the room and sending Irma flying as it swept through the room like a shadow, knocking her away from Will. The girl grinned slightly, having seen Lucius use the same method of transportation numerous times. It could only mean one thing. They'd found her.

Will could barely keep track of the squabbles, too focused on getting the hell out of the chair, and no sooner than it was willed, it was done. The scrapping continued and several indignant shrieks were heard before a green light flashed through the room, blinding her momentarily before she was swept into the shadow and felt herself flying. She was leaving.

* * *

Hours later it seemed, but really was only minutes or so, she stood in the dark marble of the chambers, the shadow still swirling until it manifested, slowly becoming more and more real, sturdy. Black robes formed, trailing down to the floor and encasing her saviour and Will slowly followed the robes upwards, hoping to meet their face as the shadows slowly faded away. Pale hands extended at their sides, an ivory white wand clutched in their right hand by long and nimble fingers tipped by dark nails. Will's eyes roamed further upwards and she gaped, taking a sharp step backwards. An entirely bald head presented the face of a man with white glowing eyes, blanched white skin, a tight-lipped smile and a snake like nose. He rolled his neck, his head tilting backwards as the sickening sound of bones cracking reached her ears. Slowly, his face again came to meet hers, this time with blood shot blue eyes as he grinned at her slightly. He bowed to her, the robes swaying at his feet as Will bowed in return. "Well, at least you know to show respect. Soon, we shall teach that to those who dare challenge you."

The slight evil tone to his voice went unnoticed by Will, but his voice sounded eerily familiar, and suddenly it clicked. Her bow deepened and she humbled herself, waiting for him to allow her to rise before she whispered the name she'd always wanted to say. "Daddy."

* * *

Cornelia barged into the room, crashin through the door with eagerness and quickly slowing her pace as she looked down at the body on the floor. She pressed two fingers to Irma's pulse point, and upon feeling the lowly beating breathed a sigh of relief. Taranee and Hay Lin barged through the door after her, surveying the scene before grinning at each other. "So the plan worked?" Hay Lin enquired as Cornelia nodded. "He came and got her. Mitchell will wake up in a while after the pollyjuice potion wears off." Cornelia grinned in response, evidently pleased as she gestured to the pink skirt and shirt she doned. "Great, because as much as I love impersonating people, Charles, dressing in pink to impersonate a teenage drama queen is not in my job description." "You did it to further the evil of the heir, Benny, be grateful." Hay Lin, revealed to be Charles reprimanded as Taranee nodded, the only one yet to speak. "Yeah. Now we know for sure that once she meets the drated Potter boy, she'll be sure to end him." Charles frowned slightly, shrugging his girlish shoulders. "I don't know Arthur, destiny is a very difficult competitor. It won't be put out easily. As much darkness as there is sure to be in her, there is still the chance that Potter may free her light. After all, she wasn't chosen to be a Guardian of the Veil for nothing." They all had to agree there. She most certainly wasn't chosen for nothing, but it didn't mean she was chosen simply because she held great light.

No...the reason for her choosing was yet to be revealed, but many had their suspicions...

Was Will chosen for her light? Or because the best way to defeat darkness is to know how darkness was to think...?


	8. Chapter 8

Dinner in the Dark Lord's company was _beyond_ awkward. A dining table coated with death eaters and loyal servants and his gaze, her _father's_ gaze, almost always landed on her sitting at the opposite head of the table. She didn't want to sit beside him, she wanted to put some distance in between the pale faced creep and herself until her nerves cooled and her first instinct of 'RUN! This guys is obviously a snake obsessed freak who's going to manipulate and kill you!' settled down. He was her father, and he cared about her. After all, he'd brought her _here_, to a place where people actually cared for her. Loved her. Her instincts were obviously a little messed up and distorted after spending so long in the Guardians' company. But...with the way he seemed to be analyzing her, she wouldn't mind returning to them.

"Well, Lucius, how is young Draco these days?" The younger man shuffled in his chair, clearly uncomfortable, and Will stifled a laugh. This guy was a chump, fresh meat and a willing slave to her father. He was someone who came off intimidating but wasn't anywhere near it when it came to the influence of someone far more...menacing. "He is well, m'lord. He lives and breathes in our ways and practises his abilities daily in the hopes of pleasing you. He wishes to do well on the task assigned to him." Her dad nodded, seemingly puzzled before catching on. "Ah yes, the eh, Dumbledore case..." he frowned and Will did too. It seemed like her father was contemplating something, thinking it over and she couldn't help but notice that he massaged his temple with his left hand, leaning his head onto it as he did. Like Will always did when she was irritated.

She barely withheld her laughter. Lucius Malfoy; irritating. Not as hard to imagine as it seemed, rather it was very amusing that he seemed to irritate her father so easily. Will noticed the amused glance of Bellatrix and rolled her eyes, causing a slight smirk to grow on the psychopath's face. She had spent a few hours with her since her rescue and she wasn't as ridiculous and awful as she seemed. She was caring beneath it all and quirky. She was a true servant to her father and regretted nothing she did in his name. Narcissa met Will's eyes and gestured to her dinner, a silent 'eat it, pet' that had Will silently cutting it as the woman poured some water into her goblet. "We may speak of that later, Lucius. I actually wish to discuss something much more..._interesting_. I've been informed that my dear Will, is under the influence and guidance of a protector." He had a cynical grin on his face. Something that seemed far too common to be called cynical instead of natural. "...I have always found myself interested in such creatures as protectors...may I inquire as to what you've gathered on the identity of yours?" ...What had she gathered on her protector? A whole fucking lot due to her time being kidnapped. She'd learned that her protector was a girl her age or a little older, that she wasn't conscious of the fact that she was a protector, that she was a muggle born witch attending Hogwarts and her best friends were two boys that continuously invaded her thoughts. But should she tell her father this?

* * *

"Don't." "Don't what? Hermione?" "Don't tell him." Harry and Ron exchanged confused glances. Don't tell who, what? "Don't tell him about me, don't say anything. Lie." "Lie? Hermione are you feeling alright?" Harry watched as Ron gripped Hermione's shoulders, shaking her a tad as he observed her. Her eyes were glazed over slightly, the deep brown lightening up to something that eerily resembled violet purple and honey nut brown. She didn't seem aware of anything around her which was highly unlike herself. She was normally the most alert other than Harry. "Hermione." he whispered, placing a firm hand on her shoulder where Ron's had once been as the red-haired boy stepped back. "Hermione, are you okay?" "Don't tell him, Will. Lie."

* * *

_'Don't tell him Will. Lie.'_ "...It sounds like a 'she'...but an old kind of woman. The voice is rusty and it sounds very aged with experience...she knows she's a protector." "So, we could establish that you are not her first assignment as a protector...but my dear Will, what leads you to believe she's conscious of her status." Will hesitated. _Bull shit mode on, bull shit mode on!_ "...Whenever I question what she's saying she tells me to trust her, that she's my protector and she knows best." Her father paused, the whole table's attention remaining firmly on her as he tapped his fingers on the table. "...Like a mother. Yes, I believe you are correct. Well done, Wilhelmina, you're observations and attentiveness are great abilities to possess. I am...most..._impressed_." _'Thank you.'_

* * *

"Hermione." Said girl flashed forwards before falling back into the couch. Her head spun and her eyes blurred but Harry could see her daze had lifted. She was back to them. "Hermione, what the bloody hell was that?" Ron enquired as she sat up, still dizzy and gripping Harry's arm tightly. "What? What was what, Ron? I asked you if you'd finished the reading list for school next week." Harry and Ron shared a concerned look before agreeing they'd discuss this later and Ron nodded. "Yeah...erm...you wouldn't mind just refreshing me with the summaries, would you?" The pair slipped into a scolding conversation as Harry sat down on the couch beside Hermione, barely paying attention. She'd said something about Will. The name of the girl from his dreams. Was it possible that Hermione knew her? And what happened to her? Was she in a trance? Harry continued to think it over as the conversation circulated to Hogwarts and the potions' professor that he and Dumbledore had retrieved earlier. But the girl from his dreams was still on his mind. Was _he_ who Harry believed it to be? And what did he have to do with Will? He didn't know, but as sure as his last name was Potter, he vowed to find out.


End file.
